


It Is A Truth Universally Acknowledged That Watching TV With Dakin Is A Bad Plan

by Gleaming_Spires (cuppaktea)



Category: History Boys (2006), History Boys - All Media Types
Genre: 90s tv, Colin Firth is so Irwin’s type, Fictober, Future Fic, I REGRET NOTHING, M/M, Mr Darcy hysteria, Scripps watches for the plot, although lets face it I probably should, and Posner’s, does this count as AU I wonder, est relationships, fluffy crack, grown up history boys, post uni, with extra fluff on top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 19:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16226273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuppaktea/pseuds/Gleaming_Spires
Summary: 3 ex-history boys and 1 ex-history teacher watch the biggest tv event of 1995: In which Pos embraces his inner slash fiend and Dakin learns toappreciatetolerate costume drama.





	It Is A Truth Universally Acknowledged That Watching TV With Dakin Is A Bad Plan

**Author's Note:**

> Vaguely set in the same verse as Dispatches From the Front but there is no need to read that first. Basically, Posner and Irwin are friends and the four of them are couple-friends - and they all live in London cos otherwise poor Irwin would have a hell of a commute. 
> 
> Not at all edited or thought out - I have never done so little editing on a fic. I’m sorry, but I hope it’s a giggle anyway (warning for possible inaccuracies in my recounting of P&P, I did not rewatch it for fic research).

 

 

 

Dakin is busy – not the kind of busy that staves off boredom and makes the day go quickly, but the sort that means he has to skip lunch and constantly bite back sharp retorts at his co-workers. The whole shitty week has been the same and he’s running on empty.

 

He’s rummaging in a drawer for some paracetamol when his phone buzzes against the shiny wood of the desk, providing a much-needed distraction from the stress of his latest case.

 

His frown melts into a smile when he unlocks it and finds a text from his partner waiting. <<David coming over after work with Scripps. Try and get home on time>>

 

Dakin hasn’t seen his friends for some time thanks to the recent case overload; he has even had to miss his weekly pint with Scripps on the last two occasions, so now there’s even more reason to get a rush on things.

 

The phone buzzes again a second later <<Bring dinner>>

 

“Yes, sir” He grumbles, getting back to his case.

 

At least it gives him something to look forward to and makes him less snappish with the poor secretary.

 

Despite skipping both lunch and the afternoon’s coffee break, Dakin is so snowed under he still has to miss his usual after-work trip to the gym in favour of sitting in traffic for an hour just so he gets home at a reasonable hour.

 

It’s pissing with rain and the traffic is worse than usual. He can hear Tom in the back of his mind as he resists the urge to lean on the horn and beep the moron in front of him _“If you got the tube like a normal person instead of driving that gas guzzler_ …” Actually, that could be Scripps, or possibly Posner… or his mum.

 

By the time Dakin arrives home with takeaway the others are all there and look like they’ve had a few drinks already.

 

“it’s fucking horrible out there!” He exclaims to the house at large, shaking water from his coat over the hall floor. “Hey, Pos. I haven’t seen you in ages, how are the kids treating you? Killed any of them yet?”

 

Posner doesn’t reply but he doesn’t think much of it.

 

“You didn’t say what you wanted to eat so I went to that Italian place you all like –“

 

He’s cut off with three loud “Shhhh”s.

 

“It’s about to start!” Posner positively squeaks, bouncing in the armchair.

 

“What’s happening?”

 

“Pride and Prejudice double bill.” Tom says, rubbing his hands together.

 

“Are you fucking –“

 

He gets _shhh’d_ again as the music starts.

 

“Come on! I thought we were having a lads’ night. I rushed back for this. The fucking theme is embroidery!”

 

Scripps sighs, heavily. “Dakin, you’re spoiling it.”

 

“Not you as well?” He notices now that they’re each balancing a bowl of popcorn on their laps.

 

“I’m going for a shower, let me know if one of you finds your testicles while I’m gone.” He sighs. “I thought I was exempt from all this girly shit when I got with you” he mutters as an afterthought, pointing an accusing finger at Tom, who ignores him.

 

Dakin purposefully dawdles in the shower, hoping it will be nearly over by the time he gets down and they can have a pint and some food and a laugh and he can maybe actually be allowed to speak.

 

He calculates half an hour for the episode and arrives downstairs with five minutes to spare. He pours himself a drink not offering the others because he doesn’t much care for being shushed again, and takes a seat on the sofa with Tom, who budges enough to let him sit down without sparing him a glance and settles back against him like he’s one of the fucking cushions.

 

Making an effort to be a patient friend and boyfriend, Dakin buries his nose in a new paperback. A general murmur of excitement causes him to glance up from his book some time later. Quite a bit of time later, now he thinks about it. Thumbing through the book he finds he’s read a lot more than he’s hoped - he checks his watch. Ten minutes have passed since he came in and the episode doesn’t seem to be anywhere near wrapping up.

 

Spying the Radio Times lying open on the coffee table he manages to wiggle free from Tom far enough to glimpse the schedule without eliciting any noises of disapproval.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me? This goes on for two hours!”

 

Tom twists around to frown at him. “I said it was a double bill.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

If he’s honest, Dakin can sort of understand it from Scripps, as for Posner the whole thing is a Hector-inspired wet dream so it’s right up his street, but Tom is about as big a fan of Jane Austen as he is of Dan Brown. Dakin has absolutely no clue why this horror show is occurring in his home.

 

At least, that is before he starts paying attention to the screen.

 

It’s Posner’s gasp of: “Mr Darcy’s going to take his shirt off!” That makes him finally look up.

 

“Stop. He isn’t.” Scripps groans.

 

Tom sits up a bit straighter against him and Dakin starts watching in time to see Mr Darcy jump, fully-clothed, into a lake in a gesture Dakin doesn’t remember from when he read the book.

 

“Oh, I get it now!” Dakin exclaims over a nice close up of Colin Firth all wet

 

Tom frowns at him, looking a bit pink around the edges. “I wish you’d stop interrupting. What do you mean?”

 

“Nothing. Only, I was wondering why you were suddenly so interested. It’s not really your cup of tea. Now I understand.”

 

Irwin folds his arms and turns back to the screen, away from Dakin.

 

“I appreciate the attention to accurate historical detail.”

 

“By which you mean Mr Darcy in tight white trousers.”

 

Tom sinks lower in his seat muttering something that sounds like “maybe” and grabs another handful of popcorn.

 

“Why couldn’t you go round theirs to watch it?”

 

“Because you have a bigger telly.” Posner says, pouring himself another glass of what Dakin now notices is the nice wine. “Now shush.”

 

“You’re like a gang of teenage girls.” Dakin sulks, folding his arms.

 

Scripps raises his hand from his position sprawled in the other armchair. “I’m watching for the plot”

 

“And I’m watching for a combination of the plot and Mr Darcy’s white trousers” Pos chimes in. “And I thought we agreed you’d be quiet”

 

Dakin rationalises that now he’s lost his place in his book he may as well join in and watch it. It’ll be good ammunition for taking the piss out of Tom later, anyway. He absolutely does not notice that several of the actresses are very pretty with amazing tits. He definitely doesn’t notice that the blokes do look rather good in the regency outfits, especially on horseback. What’s more, he doesn’t get even the tiniest bit interested in the story, at all.

 

“Stuart, you’re not watching so you can bring the food in” Tom says in the brief respite between episodes.

 

“Hang on, that’s not fair.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Three heads turn to look at him, expectantly.

 

“Because … I want to know what happens with the slutty sister with the big boobs running off, ok?”

 

“We’ll tell you if you miss anything.” Posner promises through a mouthful of popcorn

 

“Why aren’t there ad breaks? Stupid BBC” Dakin glares at Tom as if he’s personally responsible.

 

“It’s a shame that Lizzie and Jane take up so much of the romantic angle” Posner muses as Dakin loudly reheats the food from the kitchen.

 

“Bingley and Darcy would make such a hot couple.”

 

Irwin gives a quiet murmur of agreement

 

Scripps rolls his eyes. “I don’t think Jane Austen would have ever got published if she wrote it that way, Pos. She had enough trouble as it was.”

 

“Seriously though, what do you think?” Posner asks when the two male leads next appear in shot together. “If they were old school chums, or university even, what are the chances they would have done it together at some point?”

 

Scripps shakes his head in disbelief. Irwin, however, gives the question serious consideration, tilting his head sideways and rubbing his chin in thought, as if he were answering a serious question about his book on Newsnight Review.

 

Scripps despairs of both of them.

“Common attitudes at the time held that homosexuality was morally and religiously very wrong and while Bingley might be quite liberal, I think Darcy is far too puritan and moralistic to even consider it.” Irwin says eventually.

 

Posner’s face falls. “Shame.”

 

“Oh, so they’re allowed to talk then? It’s just me who has to shut up?” Dakin scowls, returning with dishes on a tray.

 

“No, they aren’t.’ Scripps snaps. “Irwin, he wasn’t serious.”

 

“I was” Posner grumbles, but quietly.

 

“David, they aren’t having sex, so can we stop talking, please?”

 

Dakin’s ears prick up “Who’s having sex?”

 

Posner lights up again. “Dakin will agree with me!”

 

“Nobody!” Scripps says quickly at the same time as Irwin, eager to keep the peace, tells Posner: “He won’t care”

 

“Dakin, what do you think?” Pos asks, ploughing on regardless “Bingley and Darcy as a couple… yay or nay to the gay?”

 

“I think some of us are trying to watch, shut up.”

 

Scripps bestows an approving look on him and Irwin has to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

 

The second episode seems to Dakin to be much shorter than the first, in fact, it stops quite suddenly in his opinion right in the middle of a plot arc.

 

“Wait, isn’t there more?”

 

Scripps is the only one able to gain control of his suppressed laughter and answer back.

 

“Not until next week.” He stretches and glances at the clock to hide his grin. “We’d better be off, actually.”

 

“What, that’s our meet up?”

 

“It’s eleven o’clock and we’re planning a day in the allotment tomorrow. Sorry, Dakin. We’ll meet up in the week, yeah?”

 

“I suppose you’ll be wanting to turn my living room into a mother’s meeting next week as well then?” Dakin pretends to complain. Nobody believes him.

 

“You know, you really need to think up some better names to call us rather than girls.” Posner tells him, standing up and stretching. “Besides being something a five year old would say, it’s not even remotely insulting.”

 

Dakin gives him the finger and Posner ignores him in favour of apologising to Irwin for leaving early.

 

“We only want you for Dakin’s telly” He grins.

 

“No problem,” Irwin laughs “I have to clear up in here anyway, otherwise the cleaner will think I’m an alcoholic when she comes tomorrow.”

 

“You’re so middle class” Scripps teases Dakin behind them

 

Dakin rolls his eyes dramatically “Sure, **allotment boy** ”

 

“I wouldn’t worry, she’ll definitely blame Dakin.” Posner smiles “Mind you, she might go to ‘OK!’ magazine. Next week you’ll see yourself on the cover: _‘TV historian’s alccy boyfriend: My cleaning job from hell._ ’”

 

“I am definitely not famous enough for OK magazine. I doubt she’d even get a tenner from The Mirror. However, I have my pride.”

 

“How come you’re with Dakin then?”

 

Dakin pushes him towards the door after Scripps. “Fuck off home to your allotment.”

 

*

 

“I can’t believe I missed the gym just so I could watch you letching over other blokes.” Dakin groans as he helps Irwin drop the empty wine bottles into the recycling.

 

“Stop being so jealous, Stu, it doesn’t suit you.”

 

“Liar. Everything suits me. Anyway, I’m not jealous, I just consider it a waste of my evening.”

 

“You loved it. Besides, I’ll make it up to you.”

 

Dakin grins and blocks Tom’s exit from the kitchen, all trace of the sulks banished.

 

Tom gives him his best stern look. Dakin wonders how he hasn’t cottoned on by now that it has the exact opposite effect to the one he presumably wants.

 

“Oh yeah? Go on then”

 

Tom purses his lips primly and nudges his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Not in the kitchen.”

 

“Boring. I’m going to need some incentive to let you leave then.”

 

Holding back a smile, Tom rolls his eyes and steps closer until only their clothes separate them.

 

“Fucking tease” Dakin mumbles. Sliding a hand into Irwin’s hair he drags him the final few centimetres for a kiss.

 

Tom moans softly in his throat and flicks his tongue across Dakin’s lips.

 

Breaking the kiss, Stu warns “If you start thinking about Mr Darcy I’m never having sex with you again.”

 

Tom laughs. “Yeah right, I’d give you a week”

 

“That’d be long enough for you to repent” Dakin smirks. “For the record though, Darcy and Bingley were definitely getting it on. That’s Wickham’s problem all along, he’s Darcy’s ex and he’s jealous.”

 

“Jealous” Tom nods, mockingly, mouth twisting into a smirk. “Like you aren’t.”

 

Grinning, Dakin reaches up and plucks the glasses off Tom’s nose before he can stop him. “Shut up.”


End file.
